


Futon fears.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's WHUMPTOBER 2018 [15]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bokuto comforting Akaashi, M/M, Manhandling, Short & Sweet, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 07:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16300787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: Something happened to Akaashi.Something happened to Akaashi, and Bokuto doesn't know what, but there's a bruise on his swollen cheek and bruises around his wrists and neck.Thankfully, he's staying the night, so Bokuto hopes he can at leasthelphim.





	Futon fears.

Bokuto had just been getting ready for bed when there was a light, almost shy knock on the door downstairs. Confused by who would be visiting this time of night, he creeps out the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth, and pauses at the top of the stairs to listen as his mother answers it.

“- come right in, sit there… Dear me, dear me, you poor thing.” The rambling doesn’t answer his question of who it could possibly be, but he can tell from his mother’s tone that it’s serious. He quickly races back to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth and rinse, before jogging down the stairs.

“Who was at the… Door…” He trails off when he meets green eyes, uncharacteristically wide and somewhat scared. Akaashi breathes heavily, seating in a chair at the kitchen table, and Bokuto isn’t blind to the bruises around his wrists, on his swollen cheek, and _neck_.

“Akaashi...” He moves over quickly as Akaashi averts his gaze, crouching in front of him and softly taking his hands in his own. 

“What happened…?” Before Bokuto can get an answer, his mother gently swats the back of his head with a cloth, her other arm occupied with a bowl of ice cold water.

“Give him some space, Koutarou. Now, help me out, and set up the spare futon in your room.”

“Ah, no, I- I don’t want to intrude…” Bokuto’s mother sends Akaashi a chilling smile, with a soft but somehow stern expression.

“You’re _staying_. I’ll give your Dad a phone call~.” Knowing there’s nothing he can do to protest, Akaashi huffs, more of a sigh. Bokuto hovers for a moment, worried, before his mother shoos him off, pressing the cold rag to Akaashi’s cheek.

Bokuto hurries up the stairs to set up the spare futon, not caring that it’s technically past his bedtime. Akaashi matters more to him than some deadline to sleep. Even if he’ll be tired tomorrow, he can handle running late for school as long as Akaashi is safe.

By the time the futon is set up, Bokuto’s mother has already gotten permission for the sleepover, ushered Akaashi up the stairs, and lent him some of Bokuto’s pyjamas from the need-to-be-ironed pile. At least they’re washed.

Thanks to his width and muscles, Bokuto has to buy a couple sizes above what someone of his height usually would. Hence, whilst Akaashi is only 3cms shorter, the pyjamas are much too long in sleeves and trousers.

It’s cute, but that doesn’t distract Bokuto from the bruises, and the fact that Akaashi has been… Quiet. Usually, he’d have something to say, either dry and sarcastic, or fond and humorous. That or they’d both be stuffing their faces.

But Bokuto hasn’t heard Akaashi say anything apart from the fact he _didn’t want to intrude_ , something completely out of character, because Bokuto has come home to his mother and Akaashi having snacks and tea together, like he already lives here.

Sometimes he thinks Akaashi might be his mother’s favourite ‘son’.

“What happened, ‘kaashi?” He shuffles from foot to foot uncomfortably. 

“It’s not important.”

“Not important? Akaashi, you’re _hurt_... Of course it’s important.” He cups Akaashi’s face gently in his hands, running his thumb just under the bruise. Akaashi, still frowning, holds his hands gently over one of Bokuto’s, leaning into his touch.

“I’d… Rather not talk about it.” 

“... Okay. Okay, but I’m here if you need me, yeah? If you wanna talk, or just let it out, you can cry all over me like you did at Barefoot Gen~.” Akashi rolls his eyes with a snort.

“You were crying over me too…~”

“It was _sad_!!!” His dramatic wail is worth the little laugh it draws from Akaashi, covering his mouth with the long sleeve. Bokuto grins at him widely, radiating warmth and friendliness. Akaashi’s laugh softens into a smile, crinkles at the corners of his eyes as they curve.

“Let’s get some sleep, Bokuto.” With a loud yawn and stretch, Bokuto clambers over the end of his bed whilst Akaashi settles into the futon, curling up on his side. Even as Bokuto turns the lamp in his room down, he can still see the bruise on Akaashi’s cheek shining, and the marks around his neck just above the pyjama collar. 

Akaashi seems to notice, ashamedly tugging it up to cover the bruises.

“It’s okay, Bokuto. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

“M’still worried… Someone did that to you. Someone _hurt_ you.” Akaashi’s lips scrunch up and his eyes squint like they always do when he’s deep in thought, nose wrinkling. It’s cute. But it doesn’t distract from their serious conversation.

“It was only half-intentional.”

“Akaashi, you look like you’ve been assaulted.”

“Not assaulted, just… Manhandled.” Bokuto sits up a little, propping himself up with one elbow.

“Manhandled?” There’s a quiet nod in the darkness before Akaashi sighs, tugging the futon covers up a little higher.

“I already said I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“But…”

“ _Yet_. I will, maybe tomorrow, but I’m tired for now.” Bokuto knows he’s fighting a losing battle. He humms under his breath, and then turns the lamp out completely.

“Night, ‘kaashi.”

“Goodnight, Bokuto.”

In the early hours of the morning, before the sun has even begun to rise, Bokuto awakes to a strange noise. Part of his brain helpfully supplies; DEMONS. Fortunately, before he can sit up with a yell demanding a fight with the other-worldly, the _other_ part of his brain reminds him he isn’t alone in his room.

And the noise is obviously sniffling, stuttered sobs muffled into a thick futon comforter.

“Akaashi? You okay?” The sniffling stops for a moment, and Bokuto wriggles one arm out of the bedding to rub Akaashi’s back through the futon. Knowing he’s been caught and there’s no hiding it, Akaashi quivers and then sobs a little harder, before wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

“Can I-... Can I come up there with you…?” Without a second thought, Bokuto shuffles back so he’s pressed against the wall, lifting up his duvet. Akaashi slips into the bed silently, shuffled down so his head is barely on the pillow, pressed into Bokuto’s chest instead, and his arms wrap tightly - almost insecurely - around Bokuto’s waist, gripping the back of his shirt.

“Akaashi?”

“I can’t stop think- stop thinking about it…” He shakes. He shakes like a leaf in the breeze and Bokuto oh so tenderly, oh so _gently_ wraps his arms around him in a soft, comforting hug.

“It’s okay, I got you, I got you. You’re safe.” He feels the sob before he hears it, Akaashi burying his face in as deep as possible, trying to shut out the world, trying to shut out the memories, but then he pulls away with a wince as his bruise pangs.

“I- I think you may have been right…”

“Huh? About what?”

“About it… Not being… Manhandling…” Akaashi sounds so insecure and _hurt_ that Bokuto gives him a reassuring squeeze, running a hand through his hair.

“We can report it to the police later, yeah? But you’re still kinda shaken, so I think you ought to rest.” There’s a heartbeat of silence before Akaashi mumbles an affirmative.

“Can I stay here though? It feels safer with you.”

“Squashed between my bara tiddies?” Bokuto grins as Akaashi laughs.

“Of course, Bokuto~.” Bokuto shuffles until both he and Akaashi are comfortable, wrapped around each other with legs intertwined.

“Sweet dreams!”

“Thank you. Sweet dreams to you too.” Another beaming smile puts Akaashi at ease, despite the turmoil he’s been through, and he closes his eyes as he rests in the place where he feels safest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please kudos and comment!


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